A Creed to Remember Part 2
by SylphinesBane
Summary: Slight alt ending to the game...


A Creed to Remember Part 2

Sequel to my first AC3 story, there are spoilers in here if you did not finish the game please be warned. I was annoyed that part of the game ended the way it did, so I wrote what I thought might have happened…

Tomorrow…today…next week…next month…The days rolled forward like the endless wagons trampling through the undisciplined frontier, but Alice did not move. She was silent as she stood crouched behind a snow blanketed rock. A white flecked breeze shifted her hood and she absent-mindedly tugged it back over her eyes. The sprinkles cascading from the sky surprised her, but snow was not that uncommon this time of year. Spring was just beyond the horizon and even then, snow storms could still occur. She was thankful for the camouflage; she was not sure how welcome she was at this place that was once a temporary home. The cold began to seep into her boots and bite at her exposed fingers. She didn't care, she cared about the mausoleum-like home that the light blizzard veiled her from. Why did she come back? What sadistic emotion drove her here? Did she want to reopen the freshly healed scabs…she almost wanted to pick at them and show him how she like the pain, how she liked to watch them fester and puss. No. No that's not what she meant, she didn't want to make him suffer; she wanted answers. Why did he abandon her after that night…

. . .

Alice woke the next morning after her tryst to find herself alone. Panic drove her next actions, as she flung the blankets off herself and dressed as hastily as possible. Still strapping on weapons, Alice halted at the home's entrance and peered cautiously around the camp outside. The pre-dawn fog allowed only the ghostly silhouettes of people to be seen, full corporal forms were nowhere to be found. She hesitated, and glanced back to where she had just bolted from. He was gone. His weapons, his clothes; gone. There appeared to be no sign of any turmoil within the home or out. The day was starting beyond the walls she was pondering behind. Perhaps he had left a message with someone in the village. That thought pulled her outside to a young man building a fire. She recognized him as one of the men Connor had spoken to the day before. She placed herself within his field of view and waited to be seen. He seemed to sense her presence and glanced up at her. He did not cease in his task and she waited patiently. At last he stood, slapping his hands together to relieve them of any dirt or wood debris.

"Alice…" He spoke her name like a statement and with an understanding tone of why she had come to him. She was slightly surprised how easily he spoke her name and she dared to guess he probably spoke English.

"Do you know where Connor has gone?" She asked calmly, not wanting to jump to any conclusions. He looked down upon her at her intrusive query, as though it was something she was forbidden to have; knowledge of his whereabouts.

"Ratonhake:ton…is gone. He has left to do what he feels he must." The man replied, emphasizing Connor's real name, before leaving Alice behind to stand before the weak fire. She watched the flames struggle in the clammy morning air as she tried to grasp what the man had revealed to her: to do what he feels he must….without her. Her emotions began to war with each other, an angry rage began to boil within her chest as well as a flicker of understanding. The man they had hoped to trap within a canyon was one of the more dangerous they had sought. He had eluded them for days, knowing he was being followed and how to stall the inevitable. Perhaps Connor believed she wasn't ready to face such an opponent with him. Through great exertion, she forced her emotions to quiet themselves and decided to see if she could track Connor. Although she knew her tracking was nowhere near as proficient as his, she needed to try.

The canyon was easy to find, its rocky borders could be clearly seen from any vantage point. Alice approached with caution, she did not know how much of a lead Connor had, but she took the side of reality and assumed he might already be gone from here too. This time she cursed the whiteout, knowing Connor would be almost impossible to see. For once she was thankful for her short statue, it forced her low to the ground closer to the snow so that she too was almost invisible. At the same time, it was a strenuous trek; the snow was thick as it spilled into the canyon. Her eyes caught sight of a low branch and with a clumsy and slippery climb; she managed to get some perspective over the landscape.

"Shit…" She swore to herself, even from her perch she couldn't see anything. The skeletal trees, unburdened with their leaves, still hindered her vision. The flurry-laden air also did nothing to help her see anything past where she balanced. She scanned the landscape, hoping that she might be able to distinguish anything in-between the flakes pelting the terrain.

"There!" She cheered to herself as she sighted a dark spot in the snow. She memorized the position of the blemish marring the clean white covering on the ground and trudged over to where it stained the earth. She approached with care and made mental notes of her blind spots. The air reeked of the storm and bit her exposed skin without remorse. The soft clinking of ice covered branches and the crunching of snow under her boots were the only sounds as she approached the area. She stopped and listened further. The flecks of snow hissed as they hit the ground like water sprayed on a flame. Nothing else. Her eyes flew to the canopy…nothing. She was alone but refused to let herself relax. As Alice crept up upon the scar, she realized it was a person, their cooling blood carving tiny rivets in the snow. Upon closer inspection she observed the man had already been looted and his weapons were several feet away, scattered like a child's toys. The snowstorm had already begun to bury the man as well as the boot prints Connor had left behind. She suspected they led to the tree line and thus a complete and utter disappearance. She stood silent and willing as a memory crept upon her. She closed her eyes, lifted her face to the sky, and waited. The blade sunk in slowly as it twisted into her chest. Remembering, it was always this painful and she welcomed it, better to wound yourself by your own hand then to allow another to remind you. The tears, those she would not allow to come, not this time, not here while she was exposed. She fell to her knees, defeated.

. . .

"You would be nothing without me…you ugly piece of shit, no one else wants you, no one else will care for you…no one else wants you…" The man hissed, spraying drunken spittle across the face he held inches from his own. He tossed the child onto the floor like the many bottles that she knocked over. She slid several feet on the alcohol-drenched floor, her small frame her downfall. The gentle rolling of several containers could be heard over the man's sickening cough and the child's frightened whimpering. His face was a blur now, the years had dulled his features but not his words.

"You are ugly, only I can love you…" His love was the rape of her innocence, a pain which Alice had difficulty ignoring even now in the numbing cold that engulfed her. These words had been hard to disregard as a child, especially after hearing them from the first person to care for her after the memory of her mother had sunk to the bottom of the ocean with her body. She had no one to protect her from the harsh words, the enraged grasps, or the numerous visual and literal rapes. She had roamed from place to place, finding the same thing. She had eventually run away from everything, choosing instead to live on the streets alone. The affection she had craved for as a child became a repulsion and the isolation a boon. Now though, the feeling of desertion still haunted her. With Connor it truly hurt. He had actually shown that he cared and like the foolish, blind child she had been and still was, she believed him.

She opened her eyes to find little difference in her surroundings. She reached for the rocks in front of her to make sure she was really where she was and yanked herself to her feet. She dug her fingers into the solid slab into front of her as her breath flew out of her mouth in furious spouts. She ground her teeth together to smother the wailing shriek that threatened to expose her to whatever lurked in the darkening canyon. She began to formulate what she was going to say to him. Various situations played out in her mind, how she would approach him, what she thought he might say, how she would respond…she knew right then and there she wanted to pound on his chest and demand answers and she also knew he would stand and wait for her to exhaust herself before giving her a response. Her body shook with adrenaline as she plowed her way past the stones back the way she came and hopefully toward wherever Connor had gone.

. . .

Alice wandered until the snow melted and the Earth began to replenish itself. She heard the murmurs of war in the wind and smelled spilled blood on the patrols that she hid from. She avoided the killing fields, not wanting to involve herself in the battles of those she had long ago removed herself from.

"Sheep…they fight for freedom only to imprison themselves with their own words…do they not know that nothing is true-" She ridiculed, not allowing herself to finish the statement. It reminded her of something that once was and that she hoped to return to. She felt like a lost sheep; her herder leaving her to the wolves. No, not the wolves, just abandoned. She had come full circle she realized; she was alone again as she once was. She had forgotten how comforting loneliness had been; companionship had made her soft. A man had made her soft; feelings had made her soft; pliable to the callous nature of the world. She became angry again, desiring nothing more than to scream at him for reminding her of her own childish emotions. The seasons may have changed and war had torn the land, but she remained within a constant bubble of disgust, mostly with herself. Alice was furious for allowing herself to feel; emotions made one weak, vulnerable. She opened her legs to the first man who expressed the faintest of interest besides his own selfish and perverted desires and look where it had brought her. Hunting him down like some mythical creature; chasing the wind. Connor and Achilles had given her something she had lacked and didn't realize she had longed for; stability. She had had food, shelter, and guidance. A purpose had thrust upon her, but it was welcome. It had been a need that had been fulfilled. So why was she so livid, after being given the skills to survive? Should she have been thankful that her mentor thought her strong enough to no longer need his supervision? Did I take what I needed from him and he in turn took the only thing I had to offer…my body? Alice questioned, wondering if she had stumbled upon some kind of epiphany. No, that did not seem like Connor at all, there had to be a reason he had left her behind and perhaps even at that moment he was searching for her as she was seeking him. Fuck, she cursed in her mind, I should have waited for him, what if he had come back for me and I was already gone. She slumped against the tree she had been hiding behind and allowed herself to slide down to a sitting position. She glanced up, not really seeing the sunlight dance between the leaves, but seeing instead her imagination of Connor returning to the village thinking her still asleep, but instead nothing. She sighed heavily, berating her hasty action, knowing now that it was already too late.

"Perhaps…I still have a chance. Achilles might know where he has gone and he is sure to return to the homestead at some point." She spoke aloud to herself, finding hope in her own words. She stood with a renewed purpose, knowing that she need only to ask a traveler along the road or someone in a nearby village the direction of New York and from there she could find her way.

. . .

Time seemed to slow when her mind was set on where to go and to get there as fast as possible. Travel along the beaten path was not an option; it was difficult to hide in plain sight dressed as she was. She had no other clothing with her and no way to carry it if she did. Her transportation was her own two feet, the occasional horse she was able to steal while slinking around populated areas in the pre-dawn hours, and a small boat once, before realizing her rowing skills left much to be desired. The terrain was nothing new to her abilities, Connor had trained her well, but her lack of height made it challenging to climb even the lowest of branches and smallest of stones. She mostly made her way as silently as possible by leaping from rock to rock or stump to stump. As though sensing her determination, the weather did little to slow her progress to the homestead. There was the sporadic rain storm, which was common that time of year as winter faded and gave birth to a new spring. She was thankful for the constant chatter of birds overhead as they celebrated the promise of warmth, to mask the sound of her passing. Patches of snow still tried to hide within the shadows, refusing to melt, reminding Alice that by the time they would thaw, she would have returned to the homestead. She smiled at that thought, fond memories and returning to a place she knew. Yet, she was conflicted and anxious; confronting her emotions was much different than simply thinking about how to face them. There, looming in the fading sunlight, was the manor. A gentle snow began to fall as she approached the dark home. It appeared empty. With wary steps, she moved around the house, giving it a wide birth before settling behind a rock coated with old crusty snow that had refused to melt. She was silent as she stood crouched behind a snow blanketed rock. A white flecked breeze shifted her hood and she absent-mindedly tugged it back over her eyes. The sprinkles cascading from the sky surprised her, but snow was not that uncommon this time of year. Spring was just beyond the horizon and even then, snow storms could still occur. She was thankful for the camouflage; she was not sure how welcome she was at this place that was once a temporary home. The cold began to seep into her boots and bite at her exposed fingers. She didn't care, she cared about the mausoleum-like home that the light blizzard veiled her from. Why did she come back? What sadistic emotion drove her here? Did she want to reopen the freshly healed scabs…she almost wanted to pick at them and show him how she like the pain, how she liked to watch them fester and puss. No. No that's not what she meant, she didn't want to make him suffer; she wanted answers. Why did he abandon her after that night… She tried to shake the thoughts like the flurries that were collecting on her clothes and decided to walk further down the road. Lost in her mental ramblings, she didn't realize she had arrived at a destination she didn't recognize. A chorus of voices and lights flickering like lightning bugs between the dense foliage greeted her. Alice's instants took over and she quickly darted into a clump on bushes and peered cautiously between the winter-beaten branches. The sight confused her, was this really part of the homestead? There appeared to be a large building with smaller structures nearby to the left and people were milling about and they appeared intoxicated!

"An inn? Since when was there an inn here?" She whispered to herself, trying to see if she recognized anyone. There! The lumberers, they were drunkenly hanging onto each other as they stumbled into the road. A woman called to them from the doorway, something about being careful as the two men waved off her concern and began singing something which their hazy minds couldn't quite recall. Alice watched them stagger into the softly descending darkness and waited. Connor didn't drink, so she knew he couldn't be here, but her senses were jumbled in a knot, she had no idea where the manor was from here. Her confusion was interrupted by a figure running down the dirt road, it was a woman and she appeared in a panic.

"Corrine?! Oliver?!" The woman was panting in exertion. She paused briefly to try and catch her breath before running to the inn's door and trying the handle. Alice watched as the locked door allowed no entry and wondered what could have disturbed this woman so. Her attention was drawn to the buildings near the back of the inn, where an older gentleman appeared carrying a lantern.

"Diana? What's all the ruckus?" He greeted her with a slight chuckle. Seeing him renewed her, and she was a flurry of dust and dress as she ran up to him.

"Connor…he's wounded badly, Dr. White sent me for alcohol and any extra bandages you and Corrine might have." She gasped with a determined desperation.

Connor! Alice felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach with how quickly the air was forced from her body. She jumped from the underbrush startling the two people who stood several feet from her.

"What happened to Connor?!" She pleaded to the woman, who stepped away slowly from her, seemingly afraid.

"I …don't know exactly. He came to Dr. White's home not long ago, Oliver do ya have those things…are …you Alice?" The woman asked, looking Alice up and down. Night was swiftly approaching, but Alice's white clothing shone like a beacon. The man replied that he did and hurried off to collect what he could.

"Y-yes…" She was taken back by the question and she gave the woman a closer inspection thinking she might have met her once. A warm smile spread over her face and she reached out and touched Alice's arm.

"He was asking for you…you should come with me, I'm sure Connor wants to see you and Dr. White can use the help." The touch she laid on Alice's arm became a grip and even stronger when she saw the man Oliver returning with his arms full of bottles and strips of cloth dangling from his hands.

"Here you are ladies…if you need anything else…" His voice trailed off as Alice quickly emptied his arms of their burden.

"Thank you sir…Diana was it? Please lead the way." Alice responded with determination as she pushed the sheets of ripped cloth into Diana's hands. Diana nodded in response and with as much haste as a woman in a dress could muster, she led Alice back up the road and off to the side. Alice's nerve-soaked palms had some slight trouble balancing the bottles in her arms. The glass was slippery, but she refused to give even an inch and tightened her grip nearly smothering herself. It was strenuous on her arms to hold so many bottles, she felt a numbness begin to creep over her wrists shoulders as she held onto her burden while trying to keep up with Diana.

Connor…what could have happened to him…despair began to grown within her chest and she felt her brow furrow as tears threatened to burst from her eyes. A panic began to flood her body as the huffing woman in front of her neared a building that was lit brightly from the inside. Her own breathing was suddenly difficult to control as Diana quickly approached the front door and rushed inside.

"Dr. White?!" She shouted as Alice dashed inside behind her, slamming the door with her leg.

"Upstairs." His muffled voice replied. He sounded calm, which gave Alice some small relief.

"Quickly, give me a bottle or two and let us go help him." She snatched two liquor filled containers, gathered her skirts, and fled to the second floor of the home. Alice followed like a shadow and the two women entered the first room at the top of the stairs breathing heavily. Alice shoved Diana out of the doorway and rapidly surveyed the room. Dr. White was kneeling next to a bed, speaking softly to the man sitting on the edge of it. Connor…he was hunched over and gripping his side. His hood was pushed off of his head and even in the candle lit room she could see the agony twisting his face. She dropped the bottles in her arms and rushed to his side.

"Connor…" She whispered, touching his thigh. She could hear his labored breathing as he turned his face toward her physical contact. It was then she saw him more clearly. His left hand was protecting a wide blood stain on his right side. His hair, he had shaved the sides of his head and there were lines painted on his cheeks. His visage was frightening , but a small smile touched his mouth as he spoke her name.

"Alice…" He suddenly winced as a tremor of pain forced him to lean forward and he emitted a deep groan from behind his clenched teeth. She gave a small cry and moved closer to him.

"Alice? Good, I can use your help as well. If you could start by removing his weapons and then I will help you remove his shirt and coat. Diana, help me with the alcohol and…" Alice ignored the rest of his dialogue as she began to release Connor of his gear. She quickly unbuckled his quiver and eased the straps off of his back. He bent over as she slipped his bow off. She could hear him struggling to breath against the wound in his side. She softly touched his shoulder.

"It's all right Connor, it will be all right." She whispered, removing his pistol-bearing holsters and laying them carefully on the floor away from the bed. She shifted his bow and quiver to make more room. As she turned back to try and remove his blades, she felt his eyes on her.

"Where…did you go…?" He stammered against the grief his injury was causing him. She couldn't return his stare, she couldn't look at him and admit to her stupidity. She sat unmoving for a moment before trying to reach for the bracer on his left arm. He moved out of her reach.

"Answer me…" He demanded, his voice slightly muffled against his clenched teeth. She sluggishly placed her hands at her sides and stood like a child being scolded. She was glad her hood was obscuring her face, she felt so ashamed and embarrassed. She felt a vise grab her wrist and looked down to see his bloodied hand holding tightly to her. His heavy breathing reached a crescendo as he forced himself to move closer to her. He pushed her hood off her head, forcing her to look at him. She glanced at his face and the torment covering it broke her.

"I thought you left ME…I went looking for you…Connor, I'm sorry." She heard him sigh heavily as though he had been holding his breath. Dr. White was suddenly at her side.

"I need to start treating that wound…" The thick stench of alcohol invaded Alice's nostrils as she nodded in response. She saw the soaking bandages in a bowl the doctor placed next to Connor. Connor held his arm out as Alice began to unstrap his left hidden blade. She pulled his tomahawk off as she worked quickly to remove his right-handed blade.

"Connor, I need you to try and sit up straight so Alice and I can remove your clothes." Dr. White spoke gently as the soft clinking of Diana working in the background grew. He sat on the bed next to Connor and gestured for Alice to kneel at Connor's knees. Connor nodded and pressed his hands against the mattress to support himself as he forced his body to sit up. He hissed against the pain as Alice reached for the buttons on his shirt. She carefully plucked each button open, taking extra care around his wound. Dr. White delicately peeled his shirt open, off the gash and began to pull the sleeve of his jacket off. He ignored Connor's pain-filled protests as he motioned for Alice to pull the other sleeve off. He handed the blood-stained clothes to Diana, who waited patiently at his side.

"Relax Connor, you're doing fine. Diana I need your help now." Alice moved out of the way as Diana approached and stood next to the bed.

"Connor, you're going to need to lie down so I can examine the wound, all right?" He comforted, taking great care to not touch the oozing gash. The blood glinted in the candlelight as it seeped from the wound. Alice cringed as Diana leaned over to take Connor's left arm and Dr. White took his right. Dr. White glanced at Alice, indicating he needed her assistance as well. She came over and took hold of Connor's legs as the three of them eased him onto his back. He cried out in agony as he was settled onto the bed. Dr. White grabbed the bowl containing the bandages, wrung out a handful and firmly pressed them into the wound. As Connor howled in protest, Diana bolted over to where fresh bandages sat and placed them within Dr. White's reach. Alice stretched toward Connor's arm as he gripped the mattress tight enough that she could feel the strain in his entire appendage. She could hear his gasping breath as she watched Dr. White remove the dripping cloth, now saturated with Connor's life. He quickly grabbed a dry bandage and held it to the wound.

"Alice, I need you to help Connor drink some of the alcohol-" He began, visibly beginning to have trouble controlling Connor's pain-induced struggling.

"No!" Connor objected, trying to sit up. Dr. White quickly forced Connor to lie back down and leaned over his face.

"Connor, I cannot treat you while you continue to thrash in pain. The drink will help dull the intensity of the injury and help you to relax. It's all right." He spoke with a gentle authority. He then nodded at Alice, who stood and grabbed the first bottle to greet her searching hand. She pried it open and returned to Connor's side. As she lifted the mouth of the bottle to his, he turned his head away from her.

"Connor, please…" She pleaded, visibly upset by the entire situation. She wanted to do whatever she could to ease his suffering. He was clearly in immense pain and was thinking of how she could force feed him the booze. After a few huffing breaths, he squeezed his eyes shut and allowed Alice to assist him in slowly drinking some of the contents of the bottle.

"Good…slow, drink slow." Dr. White instructed as he reached for another bandage to staunch the bleeding. Alice noticed how disgusted Connor was with choking down the liquor. She gently took a clean cloth strip and wiped his mouth. She folded it over and used the clean side to carefully pat down his sweat-soaked forehead. She placed her hand on his shoulder as a shudder of pain wracked his body, feeling the intense heat radiating from him. She felt something touch her elbow and looked to see Diana holding a bowl with dressings swimming in something.

"Water…so you can clean the sweat from his forehead and chest. Try to get him to drink as much as the alcohol as you can." She said with a consoling smile. Connor yelped in pain as the doctor began to inspect the wound.

"Easy Connor…relax…" Alice watched from the corner of her eye as Dr. White began to carefully probe the wound and the swollen, torn flesh around it's edges. She quickly looked away and urged the bottle to Connor's lips. It was difficult going, he was constantly clenching his teeth against the pain, but she eventually got her way. She alternated between holding the liquor to his mouth and mopping the sweat from his body.

"It doesn't seem he broke any ribs, which is good. The wound is deep though. Connor, I'm going to need to examine the wound some more before I stitch it closed. You're doing good." Connor moaned in response. Alice did not want to watch any further so she focused her attentions on trying to comfort Connor as much as she could. Dr. White was speaking softly to Diana, giving her instructions on needing more light, needing this, holding that, keeping pressure there. Alice noticed the bottle in her hand began to feel much lighter, she leaned over Connor and noticed his eyes were closed. His breathing, although still troubled, was slightly more relaxed. Noticing her movements, Dr. White spoke,

"How is he doing Alice?" She glanced nervously toward him and then back to Connor. She hovered over him, worried. She heard the doctor tell Diana to tend to the injury and he moved to Alice's side.

"Connor?" Upon receiving no response, he called his name again. She watched as he pressed his hand to Connor's neck and then to the center of his chest. He turned to Alice and gave her a reassuring smile.

"He's passed out. Could have been the pain or the drink. Connor does not drink, he has no tolerance for alcohol. It's all right Alice, it will be easier to treat him now." He gave her arm a gentle squeeze and returned to trying to remedy the wound. Alice carefully lifted Connor's hand and held it against her chest as Dr. White and Diana worked over him. She studied his face, watching the occasional flicker of pain mar it's surface. Sporadically he grunted in pain and twitched his arm, causing Alice to softly whisper in his ear,

"Sshhh, I'm here Connor, it's all right." She continued using the cloth with the bowl of water to try and comfort his overheating body. Tired as she was, her concern kept her awake, as the doctor and his assistant toiled over Connor's injury throughout the night. Alice frequently peeked sideways at Dr. White to see how much progress he was making and was relieved to hear him ask Diana for needle and thread to start closing the wound. As he began to sew, she felt Connor tense.

"Doctor…" She began as Diana shifted to her side and observed Connor few a few seconds.

"He's reacting to the stitching that's all. Try to distract him a little, it might help." She suggested returning to the doctor's side, bringing him yet another candle to work by. Alice noticed the stubs of several candles littering the floor by her feet and wondered how much time had passed. Her eyes found the window on the far side of the room and she began to see the horizon separating light from dark like oil and water. She guided Connor's hand into her own and began to gently rub his knuckles. His cracked lips parted and he spoke a single word she was unable to understand. She recognized that he was speaking his native tongue and could only guess what a man in intense pain would say….mother. A depressing weight bore down upon her as she continued to hold his hand and comfort him as best she could.

"Done…" Dr. White announced wearily. He sighed heavily and began to dress the wound. Alice studied him as he delicately cleaned the area again and wrapped the torn strips of cloth over the wound. He eased longer pieces under Connor's body and draped them around his torso. He tied a loose knot and then positioned himself next to Alice.

"You did well." He gave her a soft pat on the shoulder as he studied Connor's sleeping face.

"Will he…live?" She asked, her voice catching in her throat. She could hear Diana in the background cleaning up after the surgery. Dr. White turned to her briefly and thanked her, before asking if she could step outside so he could speak with Alice in private. When the door clicked closed he spoke,

"Yes, he will live. The wound was deep and I don't know how long his recovery could be Alice. He will need you. He can stay here as long as he needs, but I won't know anymore until he wakes. You returned at the right time." He gave her a fatherly smile before calling Diana back into the room.

"I should go tell Achilles what has happened…" She spoke, finding it difficult to stand, so stiff were her legs. Dr. White and Diana were both staring at her as she stepped away from Connor's side.

"Alice…Achilles…is dead." The doctor replied with concern. Alice's eyes widened in shock and she stumbled back toward where Connor lay.

"What…" She whispered in disbelief. She suddenly found herself sitting on the floor, the bed supporting her back. Dr. White was kneeling in front of her, studying her face intently.

"You need rest Alice, it's been a long day for all of us. Diana, can you set the cot up in here, I will clean up and get Connor more settled." The woman muffled a yawn in reply and left the room to fetch the makeshift bed as Dr. White helped Alice to her feet. He guided her to the other side of the bed Connor was laying in and helped her to sit. He sat down next to her and put his hand on her back.

"Connor was with him when it happened. He is buried up at manor with his wife and son." She turned to look at the doctor as he spoke her eyes filling with tears. Diana entered the room dragging the cot next to her. Dr. White excused himself and assisted her in setting it up not far from Connor's side. Alice watched with numbness as he pulled the blankets from under Connor's knees and carefully placed them up to his waist. He inspected the dressing again before removing the soiled bandages from the bed and floor.

"Thank you…" Alice mumbled, feeling the weight of all her suffering strike her at once. The tears spilled from her eyes as she tried to cover her face with her shaking hands. She was struck with a tightness and realized that Diana was holding her.

"Don't fret dear, we will help you. Come lie down and get some rest. Connor will be fine, everything will be fine." She allowed Diana to escort her over to the cot, where she collapsed into a blissful darkness.

. . .

"…with her? She's not injured is she?" A strained male voice asked. Alice stirred, disturbed by the sound. A soft chuckle responded and then another male voice, with a slight accent.

"No, she's fine. Exhausted. I should wake her, she's been sleeping for quite awhile, and I'm beginning to be a bit concerned." The voice grew louder and the she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"How long has she been here?" The other voice asked. The man sounded weak and heavily fatigued and then Alice's mind screamed at her, you know that voice!

"Connor…" She mumbled as the hand on her shoulder pressed harder. She rolled onto her side and opened her eyes to a darkened room, gently glowing with candlelight. Dr. White was standing over her, a relieved expression on his face and behind him, Connor was laying in the bed, his face shadowed by the wavering shadows in the room. He looked completely exhausted but still was able to give her a weak grin.

"Alice, it is good to see you again. Are you well?" He asked softly, as though speaking any louder would cause him pain. She sat up and brushed the blankets off of her and nodded in reply.

"Connor just woke up himself, you both have been asleep for two days." Dr. White stated matter-of-factly.

"Two? How?" Alice questioned, completely confused. Had she been that spread thin over the past…how long HAD it been since she had seen Connor last?

"Well Connor IS injured and I'm convinced you have been under immense stress. I understand you've been traveling for quite some time. That can be extremely tiring. You must both be starving, let me see if Diana can cook something up." He excused himself from the sick room and closed the door. His steady foot falls could be heard melting into silence as he walked downstairs. A hush fell over the room. Alice looked down at her hands and began tugging at a loose string in the blanket.

"Are you well?" Connor asked weakly. She met his gaze and nodded.

"What happened to you?" She asked, absently touching her head. She saw him softly laugh to himself before he answered.

"I left you that day because I discovered that the man we were following was involved with my father, who was a Templar and I did not want to be absorbed in my personal feud. When I returned to the village, you were gone. I searched for you, but I became too engrossed with my, vendetta. I fought a man by the name of Charles Lee, also a Templar and I was wounded in my pursuit of him. That is how I came to be here." He explained in an apologetic tone, short and to the point.

"Your father was a Templar. Did you kill Charles Lee?" She was trying to grasp the situation but her tried mind was having trouble comprehending everything.

"Yes." He replied coldly, and then added, "I am sorry Alice. I should have told you but I was too blinded by my thirst for revenge."

"No, it is all right. I can understand having a certain, mindset." She smiled inwardly, recalling her long journey to where she was now. He held out his hand to her, which she eagerly took.

"What do we do now Connor?" She asked unsure what else to say.

"For now…let us just rest." He replied, sleep clinging to each word. She released his hand, climbed over him into the bed and, careful of his injury, reclined next to him.

"That is a good idea."

Jonathan De Leon

Program Support


End file.
